Caged Birds Don't Sing
by Mochi Shutdown
Summary: With his wings clipped and his flag torn to shreds, it was time to accept the truth. The United Colonies of North America had lost the war. Failed Revolution Universe. A very outdated story, in the process of being rewritten for a future release.
1. Prologue

Hello, and welcome to my first story, this is just an idea I have have, and I'll update as I can. You may find typos or grammatical mistakes, but I am writing this on my phone, so don't act lilt they're there just to annoy you.

WARNINGS, This story contains Dark/ Insane England, and Broken America, there is blood, and possibly future gore as the story continuous.

I do not own Hetalia...

The clank of chains resounded the small room from large metal cuffs, the inside coated in blood, from where he had rubbed them raw trying to escape, a latch ditch effort for his people, for his men.

No luck came, he couldn't free himself, too weak from hunger, and blood loss. The poor man couldn't even see, eyes wrapped by white bandages, that left him in the dark.

The terrifying dark.

His head lolled to the side, just as the door across the room squeaked open, the all too familiar sound of heavy foot steps resounding.

Despite every word to exist in the english language, he couldn't describe how he hoped it wasn't one man, a man he hated to his very core, The United Kingdom.

Just as fate was, with its ever going turns, and cruel jests to ones life, even to the battered American's life, it was him. It was the only person it could be.

Silence fell like a veil, but that left Alfred on edge. He knew they where here, watching him, in his pitiful state.

Why couldn't Arthur had pulled the trigger, when that barrel had already stabbed his left eye?

Suddenly, he could feel the warmth of hands of his filth covered face, gently running over his cheek, before dipping upwards to the bandage.

The pressure released, and it all fell away, giving way to blinding light that made Alfred squint at the white walls of the room.

"Oh, you're awake," the voice didn't sound surprised, as it did distant. Like a doctor to its patient, and not brother to brother.

Oh, but woe for the colony

They weren't brothers, no longer did they share the same, it was broken, shattered to fragments by himself.

Arthur's body seemed to lean farther over his own, trying to see his face, or more specifically, his eye, the one he has stabbed, perhaps without meaning too.

The dried blood didn't allow Alfred to open his eye, it was sealed, and he didn't have will nor strength to pry it open.

Delicately Arthur's hand returned, a finger going on his bottom eye lid, and another on his top. Slowly, the other eased the eye open, not only causing Alfred to go rigid from pain, but to find he had began to cause it to bleed once more.

"Bullocks..." He hissed, seeming to be disgusted by such acts.

He turned away, rustling into a bag he had brought with him.

Pulling out a moist cloth, and a roll of bandages, he set to work on cleaning the circumference of the eye, before wrapping the bandages around the others wound.

He paid no mind to the glare he got as he worked, not until it was fully wrapped, and he could see pink bleed through.

Alfred was watching, glaring at him with the force of an army.

Even like this, bloodied and beaten, he didn't accept his defeat.

"Well then," he smiled, a sick grin of amusement, "it's good to have you back, my dear colony." The smile grew wider as the chains rattled again.


	2. Chapter One

Welcome back! Same warnings, and as kings of last time. If your unable to stomach blood, or a pathetic form of America, I would not reccomend this to you.

There will be grammatical errors and typos!

Hetalia is not mine

enjoy.

Once more, Alfred was left to rest, his eye bandaged, and arms restrained beneath the covers, so he wouldn't be escaping anytime soon (Not that he was even considering trying.) still, he had to appreciate the covers being drawn over his chest, so he couldn't see his bloodied wrist.

Alfred's one working eye immediately trained on the door as it crept open, a young maid peaking her head in, brown locks covering the edges of her face.

She seemed to watch him for a few seconds, before turning and talking to someone still hidden by the door. Were they discussing him?

Likely, it would make sense after all.

The woman finally came in, not saying a word as she came straight to his bed side.

The silence held as she pulled away the covers over his body, revealing tattered remains of his uniform, that all stuck his filthy skin.

He hands gently went to his torso, in buttoning what was left of his coat, and pulling it away, the fabric giving easily to her, and not attempting to stay together.

She repeated that with his knickers, under shirt, and even his pants, once he was bare she pulled the covers back over his chest, mumbling to him quietly,

"The master has insisted on giving you a bath himself..." The woman gave a smile, before leaving just as quickly as she had come in, leaving him to wait.

It was an awkward few minutes, shifting as he could on the bed, with chains weighing down his weak arms.

Arthur finally came in, holding a robe colored white. He set it on Alfred's legs, before unveiling the key his left hand held.

Arthur undid the locks on the cuffs, having to yank harder than expected to free the colonies wrists, he hadn't expected so much blood, proceeding to help Alfred sit up, he brushed the robe closer.

"Put this on." Was his simple words, that Alfred followed.

The robe was oddly soft on his skin, despite taking the dark brown onto its fabric from his filth. He brought the edges closed, and smoothed out the cloth over his legs, not forgetting to tie the robe shut.

Arthur was oddly gentle, easing him out of bed, and to stand on the hard wood, keeping an arm under his own, having some clue to Alfred's weakness, but still, it was humiliating.

In every sense of the word.

He was supported as he had to move long unused muscles, body aching with each step.

The bathroom was relatively close, just a left outside the door to his room, so he didn't have to walk long, before being allowed into the tub of the equally small bathroom.

It was empty, causing Alfred to awkwardly pull the robe closer, but Arthur was leaning over him in seconds, untying the robe, as if Alfred was unable.

He was babying him. Alfred wasn't a damn child, but he wasn't strong enough to pull away either. He was stuck under his Colonizers power.

Arthur pulled away the robe, turning, and folding the clothes, that had become just as filthy as his skin.

Alfred let his head lean back on the porcelain tub, watching the fire place before him crackle, warming a single pot of warm, he guessed for his bath.

Arthur was quiet, sauntering over to the fire place, and unhooking the large pot.

"Stay still, I'm going to pour this in." He said, turning back to him with the pot, Alfred awkwardly closing his legs to hide himself.

Arthur tipped the pot, letting steaming water flood the small the tub, causing Alfred to hiss from the sudden heat, not having bathed for some time.

The scalding water had turned brown, coming just to his upper stomach. Arthur dropped the pot, a metallic "clank" resounding as he kneeled by the tub.

His so far expressionless face finally turned to a grin, reaching out to pet his grimy hair, but Alfred avoided being touched.

"Is that better?" He asked, as if Alfred asked to be bathed.

"Y-yes.." Was all Alfred's parched throat could manage.

Arthur sat up, having to stand to go fetch a small wash cloth from the shelves by the sink, that sat just right to the door.

He came back to Alfred's side with a bar of soap, and a towel. He wet the cloth in the murky water, proceeding to rub the soap on its surface to create suds.

Arthur began to wash Alfred's shoulder, revealing his pale skin beneath the layers of filth. Alfred shuddered beneath him, sighing as Arthur moved down, leaving trails of where dirt had been cleaned off.

It was awkward to say the least, Alfred looked away as Arthur worked, and ignored the occasional grunt when the man came across a scab, having to clean harder so he could peel away the scab.

After some while, the peach tone teenager that had come to be his brother, was once again recognizable. With the layer of grime cleaned away, it was apparent to see he had lost a good amount of weight from hunger, and the amount of bruises over his body was almost amazing, what exactly had been Alfred's training?

That didn't matter now, his younger brother was back, and he wasn't going to let him tread so close to this world again, Alfred simply wasn't ready for the stress.

"H-hey, Arthur...are you done yet?" A cracked voice asked, pulling Arthur back to his senses, instead of muddling amongst his thoughts.

"Oh? No, no, your hair is still a mess." He said shaking his head, dropping the towel into the water.

Arthur stood once more, and swiped the glass bottle of soap he had bought just for cleaning the colony, and joined Alfred at the head of the tub. His hands went on either temple on America's head, and gently pulled him down into the water. He was met with resistance at first try, but Alfred wasn't able to stop him long, and eventually sunk underwater.

As Arthur was about to release him back up, Alfred began to thrash, kicking the sides of the tub, arms flailing in the water, splashing water in all directions. Arthur roughly pulled his hands up, Alfred gasping for air at first chance, his uncovered eye wide with fear, and body beginning to shake.

Arthur hadn't intended to scare, hell, he had done his best to keep Alfred calm, but that was no longer working.

"Alfred, Alfred! Look at me!" He demanded, hands snatching the teens shoulder to hold him in place. Alfred fearfully shook, not appearing as the grown up that had battled him, or rebelled, he was hardly the teen he had sat with drinking tea.

No, this was a child. A badly beaten child, who feared his own shadow, no torture or punishment he could give, could change the weak base of Alfred's mind.

Before he knew it, water was seeping through his clothes, and Alfred was in his arms, sniffling as Arthur hummed him a soft song, finally aiding in settling him back into the water, and allowing Arthur to clean away the filth of this world.


End file.
